Boston Remembered

It’s been several years since I visited Boson.  It was truly one of my favorite trips and I packed a lot into a long weekend.

I remember flying into Logan International. Nobody told me what it would be like.  I was a little nervous when I looked out the window at 1,000 feet and saw only waves below the aircraft. 

Since this trip was a last-minute booking, I was able to get a very reasonably priced room at the downtown Omni Parker House. I soon learned that this is a rather famous hotel. 

• The claim is made that Boston Cream Pie originated right here.
• The claim is made that JFK proposed to Jacquie at Table Number 40.
• Ralph Waldo Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne, and Longfellow were apparently regular visitors. 
• And from the sounds of it, politicians were drawn here like moths to a flame.
• And of course, there are stories of hauntings as well. 

The location on School Street is part of the Freedom Trail.  I walked the 2.5-mile trail there and back on my first morning. As I mentioned, it was to be a short trip.

Boston is on the ocean, of course.  And there are whales in this ocean - goes without saying. My mom was a bit of a whale fan, so I thought I'd sign up for this excursion.  And it was truly, fantastic.

On the way back to Boston Harbor, I looked at the sky in the west as it steadily darkened over the city. We approached by water from the east. A genius mind was not required to see that a collision was imminent.  The only real question centered on the timing. It would certainly be good if I could disembark and be comfortably ensconced in my hotel room before the upcoming torrent.

The boat docked. The tourists exited. 

I was last. 

That meant that all available taxis had departed. Uber had yet to be launched. So then, as they say, better get to hoofing it. I knew that the hotel wasn't that far, but I had only been in the city for 24 hours and well, I was directionally challenged.

Tall buildings line the downtown streets of Boston in such a way that pathways could be considered a better description than streets. Walking faster as the area soon became black as night, I found myself completely alone in my attempts to navigate unfamiliar territory. Almost immediately, the expected deluge accompanied a great deal of thunder and lightning. Sans umbrella, the picture below gives some idea of this mid-afternoon summer chaos. 

I don't know how long I wandered the Bostonian cobblestones, but eventually, I saw a kiosk with a cop inside. I let go of the real-men-never-ask-for-directions syndrome and enviously inquired of this well-protected and dry police officer as to the location of 60 School Street. The incredulous stare with a mouth informed me that I was only a couple of blocks away. I imagine that he still talks about encountering a sodden creature with a foreign accent asking him for directions to a local aristocratic hotel as well. 

Finally, seeing the entrance, I became acutely aware of my condition. Wet matted hair, clothing that stuck to my frame in a way that said, "Not ever coming off!", and soggy shoes that squished (So VERY loudly) with every tentative step. I was fearful of walking into that timeless and elegant lobby heading past the Parker House Restaurant toward the golden doors of the elevators. 

I expected to be stopped and forcefully removed from the establishment at any moment.

Completely embarrassed, I could only pray that I would, somehow, become invisible.  I walked slowly with my head up as if I belonged there leaving a trail of small foot-size pints of water on a carpet that I could never afford to replace. With a petition that I would find solace in riding the elevator alone, I pushed the up button. Truly, I was blessed. 

OK then. You've heard stories of a few well-worth-remembering events. And then one best forgotten. 

I find it interesting that most of these 'memories' didn't appear until I began to write this article. You see, it was the unfortunate weather event that made the biggest impression. 

When I recount the story of Boston, I typically focus on that day/night in the rain. Potentially ruinous, it was THE most beautiful night I had ever experienced.

Those narrow streets amplified the thunder, and I could actually hear the explosions of sound reverberating between the buildings as if they were physically bouncing around all around me.

The outbursts of lightning framed sopping streets as water rushed into the drains with its own roar. 

And then it would stop for a moment. Silence. Darkness. Solitude. The background trickle of running water. 

And yet, I could not stop the swelling appreciation for being able to observe and even become part of this experience. It would have been amazing to have shared and treasured the event with another person. But then again, maybe this was best.  

Yes, it's a long story today. But I kinda' got into it!

There are lessons to be had from the story, of course. These could be called typical, and they look like this; 

• Appreciate every moment.
• You never know if an event that happens to you will be bad or good.
• Look for the best in every circumstance.

All those are true, no doubt.

• I think I miss the opportunities that would lead me to those same lessons - frequently.
• I think that if I believe in a good and gracious God, I should look for them and even expect them. 
• I think that if I practice this type of openness and gratitude in the little day-to-day things, I might be in a better position to be open and grateful even when things might be a lot tougher.

These are thoughts that I have become focused on this week after listening to a Ted Talk. I wonder what might occur to you should you take the time to watch it as well.

Phil Hansen - Embrace the Shake Ted Talk